Life, Again
by silverpaint
Summary: A golden door leads to a veil, and an ex-pharoah ends up in the Department of Mysteries.
1. Chapter 1  Life

**Life, Again**

**Summery: A golden door leads to a veil, and an ex-pharaoh ends up in the Department of Mysteries.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

* * *

In a strange way, it was beautiful.

He'd never imagined he would call death beautiful, but that was the only way to describe this suicidal walk. White light, the very purest kind, washed over him, enveloping him, drowning him, smothering him, dragging him down into the very depths of the afterlife. He was dying, and loved every minute of it.

After all, he had already died three thousand years ago.

As he continued walking, sensations dulling with every step, he felt a little regretful about leaving Yuugi behind. He reassured himself with the fact that Yuugi had his loyal friends supporting him. He didn't need a ghost to stand up for him anymore. (In another, stranger way, he never did.)

He would miss Yuugi, yes, but he would have his long-lost friends and family, and that made up for the loss of his lighter half. And one day, hopefully in a far, distant future, Yuugi would join him, and he would be complete once more.

As he continued on - was he even walking anymore? He didn't know - he was sure that he would see his Egyptian friends ahead of him any time now. He had never been one to blindly trust, but this he _knew_, because his skin was tanned and adorned with gold, even if he couldn't feel it anymore.

(He was already dead.)

…

He went on.

…

He didn't know how much time had passed, but he went on.

…

Then, ahead of him in the light, he made out a crumbling archway. It was ancient-looking, although he had learned to never assume things by their appearance, and a worn, white veil hung over it. The veil was completely still, which was odd, but he supposed that the archway must have been stronger than it looked.

Some part of him wished to enter the archway, but he knew he wasn't supposed to, (his friends would be just around the next bend, he deserved his rest after three thousand years), but to his horror, he found that he was approaching it, and could not stop. He mentally struggled against it, but he couldn't feel anything either, and the archway loomed closer, and he saw that the archway was much larger than it had initially appeared.

The white veil was closer, coming close, close, _right in front of his face_ and horror freezing his soul, he stumbled through it, and he was -

-_alive_.

* * *

The world swirled around him and he shut his eyes tightly closed, clenching his fists to block the pure pain that raced through his skin. It seared like fire, a burning fire that was cold and light and calm, and ran to the tips of his spiky hair. Spots of light danced before his eyes, and he stumbled forwards, feet slipping on a stone floor.

There was a yell, and shouts of surprise, although he couldn't hear them, and a voice called out something strange, his world swirled into darkness, and he unconsciously crumpled to the floor.

* * *

He stirred slowly, blinking before gradually opening his eyes, in order to get used to the light. Awake and alert, he carefully looked around without moving his head noticeably. He was in what looked like a hospital ward, tucked into a bed with the thick blankets pulled up to his shoulders. There were no other beds in the ward, and he noticed that it was a lot smaller than a usual ward. To his right, there was closed, pristine-white door, and across from him was a window which showed that it was raining outside.

Beside the bed he was lying in, there was a woman dressed in some sort of black… robe. She was sitting low in a chair, and he noticed that there were heavy circles under her eyes. She looked to be asleep, so he began to sit up, freeing his arms and upper body from under the blanket.

It was then that he noticed something strange. Not that the situation was at all normal, but, staring down at his arms, his skin was… tanned. It wasn't the light sort of golden tan that you usually get on holidays, but a dark, Egyptian tan, that he had only seen in his memories and on the Ishtar's. A flash caught his eye at the edge of his vision, and he turned to see what it was. Golden bracelets and others lay on the side table, and peering over the edge of the bed, he saw some purple and white clothes. Confused, he looked around for a mirror, and noticed one a few metres away from the bed. Throwing back the heavy covers, he carefully stepped around the clothes and made his way to the mirror.

What he saw surprised him in some way, and yet didn't surprise him at all. His skin colour had changed from the normal Japanese tone from when he had inhabited Yuugi's body, to the dark Egyptian colour he had possessed back when he had been alive, three thousand years ago. His hair had retained the same lightning-bolts-against-spikes it had both when he was an ancient king, and when he was just Yuugi's darkness. He was wearing a light blue … robe-thing, of the same sort the woman had been wearing, although a different colour. He was still the same taller-than-Yuugi-but-shorter-than-everyone-else height that he had been, through his ears had been pierced, (and they looked quite freshly-pierced too, as if they had only been pierced a few days ago or something) like they had been millenniums ago.

(He had begged Yuugi to get them pierced when he was still inhabiting Yuugi's body, but Yuugi had claimed that it was against some regulations or something for boys to have their ears pierced, which he had thought was extremely stupid.)

What truly surprised him, though, were his eyes. It wasn't the usual narrowness of them, no, nor the fact that somebody had lined them with kohl, but the colour of his eyes. They were a bright, burning red, the colour of fresh blood. He frowned. The only time he remembered having crimson eyes was when he had newly been Yuugi's darkness, so new he didn't even call him aibou, and Siamon had used to tell him back in Kemet, that his eyes had been red when he was very young, but then they had mysteriously turned to purple one he reached the age of five. The people had thought it was some sort of miracle, one that meant he was definitely going to be the pharaoh or something.

He stepped closer to the mirror, faintly frowning. What did it mean? He recalled back through the events that had happened: he had lost to Yuugi, crossed to the afterlife, although his friends weren't there, been forced through a veil, and had woken up in this hospital _alive_. He looked at his hands. Judging by the fact that the clothes beside his bed must have been his, he had changed back into his Egyptian appearance And then…? Why had he been forced back into life? Had he done something to anger the gods? Were the prophecies false? No, they could not be. Did he do something to not deserve his rest after three thousand yea-!

"Get rid of that ridiculous hair!" the mirror suddenly shouted. He stumbled backwards in surprise, falling onto his back with only his arms keeping his upper body upright. The woman in the chair shot upright, and upon seeing him, she froze. After a few seconds, she unfroze, and shook her head wearily.

"Hey, kid, come back over here." she called to him, and he did as she ordered, clambering upright, walking over to the bed, and sitting back down on it, next to the woman.

"So…" she blew out some air, and glanced at his eyes again. Of course. Red was an unusual colour, he wryly thought. "Sorry about that mirror, you should just ignore it really..." she trailed off.

"Who are you?" he asked sharply.

She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "Sorry, Unspeakable, can't say."

He frowned. She could talk perfectly, so why did she say she couldn't speak? "What is an Unspeakable?"

She looked at him, surprised. "You... don't know?"

She took out a… _stick_ of … _wood_ from her pocket, and waved it towards the closed door. He didn't know the point, until he heard the door locking itself.

He whirled around to the woman. "What was that?"

She stared at him. "You're a Muggle?" she replied, looking as confused as he was. Glancing at the stick thing, she sighed again. "Tell you, if_ I_ explain, will _you _explain what you were doing in the Department of Mysteries, wearing weird Muggle clothes?" She sounded tired. He nodded. She rubbed her eyes.

"Well, to start… what's your name, by the way?" she questioned.

"My name is Atem." he said, and so it was.

* * *

A/N: Ha-ha. What am I doing, uploading a multi-chaptered story when I already have two others to be working on? I guess it's because I'm ill, and bored. Don't think you're going to be getting another chapter any time soon, unless this illness sticks around for another day. So… Atem is sent to HP world, blablablabla. Don't think it's going to be like the other stories. Takes place during Half-Blood Prince/Deathly Hallows if I actually manage to complete it.

By the way:

Kemet = Ancient Egypt.

Aibou = Partner.

Hahahahahahahaha. I'm probably going to get flamed for some reason, probably never updating, so just take pity on a poor ill girl who is doing this purely because she's not thinking straight and is ill.

(By the way, I really love spelling and grammar check right now.)


	2. Chapter 2  The Hospital

**Life, Again**

**Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer: If you haven't noticed, this is fan fiction.**

* * *

"Atem what?" she asked after it was clear he wasn't going to say anything more.

"Atem Mutou." he lied. He couldn't tell her the truth, so he would just have to lie.

She raised an eyebrow, and then quickly dropped it back down again. She yawned. "Okay… so Mutou, have you ever heard of magic?"

He hesitated, before nodding. He knew the Shadows were a type of magic, and the magicians back in Kemet could perform magic. He wasn't sure if this was the same magic, since they hadn't use magic to lock doors, and certainly hadn't use sticks of wood to channel it.

"Okay… so…"

He spent the next few hours listening to her half-explain magic and its government, including about the almost-war going on, and the man who most people called He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. There were quite a few words he didn't understand, seeing as he wasn't English, and was relying on the English lessons that had been drilled into Yuugi's head to communicate.

"…so, nobody is actually supposed to go down into the Death Chamber, but with all the damage that was done last June, they had to do major repairs." She yawned, for probably the twentieth time. She really needed sleep, Atem thought. "They're calling it the DoM Battle of 1996, now."

What?

"1996?"

"Yeah… you know, this year." She peered at him. "Or are you from that Muggle religion, whats-the-name, that has a different number of years or something?"

"No. I am Egyptian."

She blinked, but Atem didn't pay her any attention. Yuugi had solved the puzzle in 1998, and the Ceremonial Duel had happened in 2000. He had somehow gone backwards by four years in time. That was… disconcerting. Well, the shock hadn't really set in.

Not that he ever had legal documents in the modern world, but now he was truly alone. No friends, no family… he shivered. Yuugi was still trying to solve the Ra-forsaken Puzzle, Jounouchi and all would be safe, Kaiba was probably still psycho, Mokuba with Kaiba and Otogi making up games or something. Yuugi had the unfinished Puzzle, Ishizu had the Necklace, Malik had the Rod - and Mariku -, Pegasus had the Eye, Shadi had the two others and Ryou Bakura… here he hesitated. Ryou Bakura would be thirteen, bordering on fourteen… he wasn't sure whether he had the Ring or not. If he did, he felt a shred of pity towards the gentle boy - the other Bakura, the thief, would be taking over his life for a long time.

"So, what's your excuse?" the sleepy woman - no, witch, asked.

"Excuse me?"

She waved a hand. "You know, your reason for exactly why you, a Muggle, came randomly out of the Veil, in the very heart of the Ministry. It's bad enough that You-Know-Who snuck in, but now a Muggle getting past our defences? We're doomed." she muttered.

"…I don't know."

"What?"

"I don't know."

She swore a bit then. "Can you remember anything?"

Atem put on an expression of thinking very hard. When in a place you've seen before, it's best to have (fake) amnesia. "I… no."

She stood up, and yawned once more. "Stay there for a second, kid."

She went out of the room, and Atem considered making his escape. Unfortunately, the witch was still outside the room, and she had mentioned that the windows weren't actually windows. A few minutes later, a man came into the room, wearing the same type and colour of… robes that the witch had been wearing. He took a seat without looking at Atem. He was silent, and so was Atem. Soon, the witch (it still felt like an insult to call her that, but it couldn't be helped), came back with a tall, sickly-looking man - no, wizard, and a middle-aged man with grey hair. The silent man left.

"This is not happening," the middle-aged man said anxiously, running a hand through his grey hair. "This is _not_ happening…"

"What do we do, Fudge?" the sickly-looking man said, before coughing like a seal.

Fudge sighed, running his hand through his hair again, while the witch yawned quietly, covering her mouth with a hand.

"He claims to be a Muggle, right? Use Veritaserum, and pray to God that he doesn't know Occlumency." Fudge eventually replied. "Go and get someone from the potion room, and ask them where it is. Tell them Fudge wanted it."

The witch nodded, murmuring a 'yes', before speedily moving out of the room, closing the white door gently behind her. However, she opened the door again, and walked straight back in, accompanied by an elderly man. Atem vaguely wondered whether his white hair was natural, like the Bakura's. He inwardly laughed as he pictured the other Bakura growing a beard - he would probably kill whoever mistook him for an old man. But that's not a good thought, he uneasily remembered.

"Dumbledore!" cried Fudge, and dropped his hand from his pepper-like hair. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I came as soon as I heard that someone had come out of the Veil," the elderly man, Dumbledore, spoke. "Where are they?"

"I am here." Atem simply said, and Dumbledore turned to look at him. Just like he had expected, his gaze lingered for a moment on Atem's blood-red irises.

"Well, what is your reason for coming out of the Veil?" Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling.

"He has amnesia, sir. All he can remember is his name and country of origin. He also claims to be a Muggle." the witch interrupted, respectfully.

Dumbledore nodded his thanks to her, and turned back to Fudge. "What do you suggest we do?"

"Use Veritaserum, and if he's a Death Eater, put him in one of the holding cells. If he's not, then just Oblivate and leave him in…" He turned to the witch. "Where did you say he came from?" She replied, and he continued. "-Egypt."

Meanwhile, Atem was feeling a little insulted. They were acting as through he wasn't even in the room. He had been a king, once upon a time. He wasn't used to this.

Dumbledore gave a disapproving look to Fudge. "It's illegal to give Veritaserum to a minor. You know that, Fudge."

"How old are you?" Fudge asked Atem.

Atem's red eyes glittered, like jewels set against a brown background, as he tried to remember. How old had Yuugi been, when he had left him? He finally located the answer in his mixed-up memories. "Seventeen." No respectful title to this man, unlike the witch.

"See, he's an adult. Now, go and -" Fudge began.

"Ah, but according to Muggle laws, he's still a minor." Dumbledore interrupted. Atem stared in slight confusion. Wasn't it twenty when he became an adult? He recalled Yuugi telling him that different countries had different rules, and relaxed. Indeed, this country was certainly strange, though Japan had never seemed that strange. Most likely because he had known everything that Yuugi had known.

"Now, I'll take him off your hands," Dumbledore was saying. What?

"But Dumbledore -" protested Fudge.

"I do have some political power," Dumbledore interrupted. "I'll look after him. He's in good hands, and I heavily doubt he's a Death Eater." He nodded towards the witch and the man, and they left. "Now, Fudge, I believe you have a Muggle Prime Minister to be seeing?"

"What? Yes, but, how, h-how… oh, never mind." Fudge stuttered, and then gave up. He then departed, shaking his head, and muttering under his breath.

Dumbledore turned back to the child. "Now, what is your name?"

The child took his eyes off his closing door, and Dumbledore took the chance to study the child. He was certainly exotic-looking, with dark skin, eyes lined with some sort of make-up - it looked distinctly like kohl, he thought - and the most unique hairstyle he'd ever seen. He inwardly chuckled. That included all the purebloods who had tried to dress up as Muggles without proper research. The crimson eyes unnerved him a little, though. He couldn't help but think of a certain Riddle, and he had no doubt that other wizards that strayed across this boy's path would as well.

"My name is Atem Mutou." the boy replied, and Dumbledore couldn't help notice that he had a Japanese last name, while his first name was Egyptian, and he claimed to be from Egypt. Dumbledore kept on smiling, although something about this boy was terribly, terribly off.

"Well then, Mr Mutou, I'm glad to formally introduce myself to you as Albus Dumbledore, Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Dumbledore smiled warmly. "Would you like a lemon drop?"

He held out a box towards Atem. He is crazy, Atem thought. Utterly crazy. Atem declined, and Dumbledore put the box back… wherever he had it. One moment it was there, the next it wasn't.

"Should we get going?" Dumbledore prompted, and Atem slipped off the bed. He gathered all his clothes and various jewellery into his arms, and it was there that he spotted something _that should not be there._

It was the Puzzle.

Gleaming gold as always, the completed Puzzle lay in amongst the jewellery. The Wadjet eye stared up at him unblinkingly, almost mockingly. Atem realised he wasn't breathing and relaxed, but it couldn't ease his tension. If the Puzzle was with him, did that mean that mean Yuugi didn't have the Puzzle? Was his soul inside the Puzzle? If Yuugi had the Puzzle, did that mean there were two versions of the Puzzle? If so, could the dark energy-

"Is something wrong, Mr Mutou?" Dumbledore inquired.

Atem breathed out, and stood up straight, determinedly not looking at the Puzzle amongst the items in his arms. "No, Mr Dumbledore. I am fine."

"You'll have to address me as Professor Dumbledore," Dumbledore corrected, and turned to sweep out of the room.

Atem walked after him, and wondered just what sort of mess he had gotten himself into. All he had wanted was to see long-lost family and friends again.

But, destiny had a particular habit of screwing up his, to put it in Jounouchi's words.

* * *

A/N: I updated! And I'm not sick this time! So, Atem gets a whole lot more screw age than initially just landing in the middle of some magically society, and Dumbledore has some plans for him. Also, a few notes: Fudge isn't Minister, but 'advisory position', so I took that as he's the Minister's lackey, and kohl is the stuff Egyptians used to line their eyes. Like a sort of eyeliner. J Let's hope I'll update again… Oh, and the 'sickly-looking man', is the Head of Department of Mysteries.

(Also, I have a poll up on my profile, a Yu-Gi-Oh one. Anyone care to take it?)

And, **now onto the bit that everyone should read.**

On the 5th of February, 2011, an esteemed author, Brian Jacques, died at the age of seventy-one. I'd like to have a moment of silence, please. It may seem irrelevant to most of you, but I only found out recently, as I admittedly haven't been in his fandom for a quite a while. He was the author of the series _Redwall_ and _the Castaways of the Flying Dutchman,_ and a brilliant one at that. I'd like to thank him for making some years of my life significantly happier, and many other lives at that.

I know that no one will ever write stories quite like he did. Thank you, Brian Jacques.

The younger writers of today (the ones with imagination!) will continue the Redwall adventure in your absence.

For while there are people to read it, the adventures of Redwall will continue on until the end of time (or books).


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